


Rosemary

by Poisoned_Woodpecker



Series: Flower Language [2]
Category: Death Parade (Anime)
Genre: F/F, My fics have essentially turned into, quin gets an idea and ends badly for everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poisoned_Woodpecker/pseuds/Poisoned_Woodpecker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quin and Nona try to plan their next move. Not everyone is on board.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rosemary

**Author's Note:**

> I feel so proud. I've finished off two stories tonight, instead of doing my work work. Oh well. This is essentially the sequel to Nettle, mainly based on the idea I had originally.... and well another one that I didn't go through by the end.
> 
> There's depression references in there and some violence as a heads up.

She found her where she expected her to be.

Despite any arguments to the contrary, Nona was a predictable person, especially after moving up to management. She had her comfort zones, little walls that sealed her up nice and tight to plan and think. The people she associated with served as the foundations. A bit unfortunate now, wasn't it? Quin thought, probably, that Nona wasn't thinking about it, but Occulus managed to get to someone then. It was out of sheer luck that the experiment was too far out of their control to be stopped.

That girl. Quin really wanted to talk to her at least once. To speak to a human that knew how the system worked would've been fascinating, but no. Work always came first, and Nona was an increasingly pleasant second. Maybe a first.

This... might be why she said those thoughts were distracting. An idea came out of it though, like a particularly harmless tree that sprouted from an ugly, ugly twig. Yes. She was the twig, but the idea. The idea was a striking tree, one in full autumn colors. The ones she saw in the old human memories, in walks through parks and the way the colors seemed to move like a wave whenever it was bristled by the wind. 

When she was out of work, it was easier to remember the warmth of human life. When on it, it was bogged down by a monotonous, supposedly objective examination of the dirty nooks and crannies of the human mind-- cleaning out a dead relative's house perhaps. There was something good, lovely about it once, but the nostalgia would be something bitter, replaced by trying to wipe the memories out for someone else. 

But no, it was easier now. That drab emptiness, clawing for something that was never there in the first place-- that had been present so much and so forcefully as an arbiter that by her final days, she wasn't sure if she was anything but that cheery little front she had put on for friends (well, friend. Maybe friends? It took too much to ask, to try, not when the energy was so drained from her by the end of each day). The change though for everyone had been sudden, even herself. 

After all, it had simply been the act of knocking a bottle off the shelf. She couldn't even remember why she had been so shaky, just that she was, and well, there it went-- splattering bourbon and shattering glass shards all over the floor. It had reminded her of something-- some memory that had long since disappeared into all but lingering traces of a feeling and a thought. Just that it had struck her, and how suddenly, the act of pretending to be something that she wasn't-- a human!-- was all too much.

But that wasn't here. It wasn't now. Now her heels dug slightly into the soft earth as she shambled her way to the steps of Nona's front porch where Nona lounged, like so many times before, watching the mist, the lake, the birds. There was always something stern about it at first, as if a particular thought had twisted her friend's features into a deep scowl, or all too often, something far too placid for her. 

The passion and ambition inside her should've made her hot, all too emotional for her own good-- something more reminiscent of Ginti, but if there was anything that Nona had proven to her all too often, was that her intelligence and control would stem anything so truly remarkable. 

"You really should get a hobby," Nona said as way of greeting, dropping from her perch to meet her gaze, looping her arms in her suspenders.

"Drinking is a hobby."

She huffed. "An expensive one."

"But you, oh great manager, are so very generous," even though she would be there and be Nona's support without it, "As to support my hobby and continual alcoholism."

Nona leered back. "I know."

She really hated that phrase. "If that's all you're going to say again, at least give me a few drinks first."

"And we're back to where we started," the sigh was with contentment though, and she waved Quin further toward the house, back to their usual pair of lounge chairs, and truly, Quin already expected the wine bottles to be there even when her visit was unannounced. "So, what's the problem now?" And the smile was so nice.

Wait, wait, no. If she started drinking now, she wouldn't leave for hours, and this wasn't the point today. She stopped half-way on the well-worn path. "Can you come up to the memory bureau with me?"

Nona paused and looked back, brow furrowed. "Quin."

"You're not going to regret it."

"I think we both regret your last one."

She didn't want to talk about that. It was an elephant in the room, too large of a one, and it simply wanted to make her drink more to forget about it, or have the courage to confront it. "If you agree to this, we can start changing things tomorrow. You grew impatient with Decim, and that made you jump too quickly." 

Oh no, the leer was back, but she knew that was a sore spot, one Quin had quickly dug deep with a topic both of them had been ignoring. Still, there was a curious spark in her eyes.

"If we give them different memories, how do you think arbiters will react?"

Nona sighed, acknowledgement that Quin had won. "And what would you send instead?"

"Why don't you come and see?"

And finally, Nona offered a grin, a harmless excitement blooming on her expression. It was the best choice. Even if it meant more work for her in the end. 

\--

"Quin..."

"Give me a second."

"Why did you have something compiled already?"

Quin looked back from her station just long enough to shoot Nona a glare. "That's your fault." Though the fact that she had kept it had been hers. After everything that had happened, she couldn't bring herself to toss it away. It was a beautiful kaleidoscope in the first place, even with the occasional smear of dirty, ugly colors. It was easy enough to find, just tucked out of sight underneath her desk. A simple hiding place, but no one would think to look for something like that. No one had an interest in keeping constructed memories. 

She sent it down to the conveyer belt, but before sending it down to the kiln, she peered back to Nona. Her arms were crossed, but an amused smile had forced its way to her lips. Amusement was wrong, but well, Quin would take it. "You ready?"

"As ready as you'll allow."

The nod was enough for her to start the machine. Her fingers twitched, expecting the new arrival of another pile out of instinct. It was all very mechanical, much too mechanical. Eventually, it was just a matter of picking the colors and stringing them together in a way that seemed right without the time to ever really check if it was right. And still, still, there wasn't enough time in between. 

It was easy to leave the job each evening with a heavy pall and guilt. So much guilt. Leaving meant one less worker to sort through the memories, and more burdens forced on everyone else. If they didn't though, she would never be able to leave, would never be rid of the place that stuck on her too thickly.

But she saw the light return to Nona's face, the shock and wonder that slacked her jaw as the cross in her eyes turned. She knew then that it had to be worth it to someone. To Nona. To Decim.

To Chiyuki.

"You... You kept them." Nona spluttered, forcing herself to settle with a blink.

"For your boy's sake." She brushed herself off and made her way back to ground level, keeping the self-satisfaction from showing. "It'd be a shame for him to forget the person that changed him the most, so every now and then I'll send it to him."

"Thank you."

She shrugged. As nice as the gesture was, it wasn't the point, not entirely. But the girl had certainly been inspiration. It was funny what life did then, how it revitalized the dead by its sheer existence. Quin never spoke a single word to her, but it was as if she had known her entire life. The little spark formed in all of them, even herself. Life. The very thing they all wanted in the end.

"Can you tell me what's different from it?"

"What? Then last time?"

Quin nodded.

She stopped and seemed to mull it over for a minute, replaying it all back in her mind. A pensive look. "... It's not everything..." she trailed off. "But there's an objective to these memories. I can tell with you."

There was even a little fondness with the way she searched through everything, and if Quin gave it some thought, it was as if she was welcoming an old friend-- a memory she had seen all too often in her searches, some ending pleasant, others not. This? Bittersweet, Quin was certain. Though they met her in death, her departure back to the living seemed more like death to them than anything. They wouldn't see her again-- at least not for another eighty years hopefully.

Then Nona awakened, and the idea lit up her face. "Her death. It's not in there."

"Now I wonder how that might change things."

Nona's grin was wide, but cautious. "And you think that's enough?"

"Of course not. For one thing, I'll still have a shitty work load, and that's been my main complaint with this whole mess. We give them the best of the souls we get, don't tell them anything about why, and see how that changes things."

"Not wide-scale. Not yet. Flower-head's still watching."

"Your boy then?"

"And Ginti."

That. That surprised her. "I thought the point of limiting it was so we wouldn't be exposed."

"We need a control group, and," and she passed a pointed look to Quin. "If you've forgotten how you pissed him off before."

Oh that. She never heard too much about the school girl, not until well after everything had finished up, and Nona had somehow managed to squeeze the information out of him about it. So Quin had heard the entire tale third-hand, with little knowledge given as to how the girl really was. Personally, his decision mattered little to her, but Quin was curious. It was a shame that this change wouldn't cause any warm feelings between her and Ginti. She had the feeling he never really liked her in the first place.

"Well. At least we know he'll keep his mouth shut."

"And Castra will be easy to convince."

"Then?"

There was a brief flash of confusion before Nona sighed. She reached up to her shoulder, squeezing it tightly with a smile that Quin could almost believe was with affection. "Next time I can send out, I'll make sure to get something expensive for us."

"And a kiss?" Jokingly. Of course.

Nona's expression soured. "Maybe just for me then."

"You don't even like drinking alone!" she whined.

With a quick jerk, Nona yanked her lab coat collar, forcing her to bend down to her eye level. "I'm starting to think I should," her voice was thick and dark, but Quin saw it. The smile between them.

\--

Castra was harder to convince than she thought.

They arrived in the room together, and Quin knew better than to speak first, instead focusing and studying the way the blood fell freely from the ceiling, dropping gracefully into the wine glasses below. Nona was always a smooth talker, to manipulate and turn others with ease. It was how she remained there at her side, despite rebelling against what was essentially their god.

"You want to make the simple man think?" Yes. Much harder.

"If Ginti gets too smart, I'll find you another idiot."

She huffed. "He won't even let you touch the basement floor, Nona."

That was true. Quin had been barred from there too, and Clavis too, if he wasn't the elevator attendant. Flower-head knew better, and even now, he was keeping his eye on them. But the idea came from her, would be controlled by her, even with Nona's blessing. She hoped it would be enough to keep him away.

The jaws of her helmet unhinged, revealing the open frustration on her, but concern was there as well. "... A lot has happened, you know," she chided gently. "We don't know what all has changed already."

"And if we don't, we give him more chances to fix things." She stepped forward, and Quin was amazed over how quickly she made herself seem small with hunched shoulders, hands joined together. "A custard. Straight from Vienna."

Castra's fingers twitched, just enough to give Nona an edge in the argument. It was easy to see then, how Nona moved up in the tower and she didn't. It wasn't so much about intelligence, but a cleverness and the specific knowledge of when to use it most effectively. The only place she seemed to falter was when it came to her, and of course, Occulus.

"Alright... but be careful about this," and she glanced back to Quin as well, felt the eyes digging into her. "Both of you."

\--

The changes were made quickly, but privately. There was only one phone call between the three of them, letting Castra know to keep an eye on the assignments and to send what would best fit for Decim and Ginti. Quin's part was to act like any ordinary day, just to keep those assortments in mind. It was easy to pretend like she was doing something that she wasn't when it basically involved the same thing: sorting through memories.

Quin took her time when she could, but the pace couldn't be so altered that the others would notice her lack of workload. It dampened her enthusiasm with the way it seemed so much like any other work day, but at least here, in that moment, she could find joy and love instead. Those were powerful emotions in humans, so much more than arbiters could really understand, she thought.

She thought she knew what it looked like, felt like. The touch and warmth of Nona's skin against her, secured tightly with the silence, and even still, that silence would ruin her. It was there elsewhere with wine glasses between them and the smiles exchanged. The fondness came with friendship, but that too. There was something more about it. Had to have been more about it. But Quin. Quin didn't want to keep digging for something that wasn't there in the first place. 

That was always the ruining of things. Thought about too much, and she could dissect the greatest and sweetest of things into something ugly. It was business.

How are we progressing?

And the thought shook her out of it, swallowing thickly before she sent the memories down. First couple's going to Ginti. Good pair.

Hopefully he won't be too loud.

I wouldn't hold out hope. The second pile came in, and Quin quickly went to work, just as if nothing happened. This was going to someone else. She could tell already by the etched lines in the stone, and the echoes of something darker, deeper inside of it. Business. Just as before.

But then the pipeline stopped, and in the distant, darkened corner of the room, the telephone rang. "For you, Quin!" someone shouted within the darkness, and Quin gave a quick nod before dropping down from her perch. It didn't take much to guess who it was, though the speed in which he reacted was impressive. 

She faked a smile as she picked up the phone. "Memory Bureau. This is Quin."

"What the hell did you send me?!"

"Hm? Was there something wrong with it?" And she tried to keep the playful edge out of her voice, even though her lips were already twisting upwards with a forceful giggle.

"Are you drunk? An idiot could see what the matter was!"

Hm. Definitely wouldn't end well if Ginti caught onto what was actually happening. While Nona wouldn't be happy cleaning up the potential mess that would come from it, a little lie couldn't hurt. "Well... I may have had a drink or two before shift started. Figured it'd be fine."

"What is wrong with you?"

"Ohh, just think of it like a challenge!"

"This isn't some joke! I've had enough of your shit, Qu--"

"Is there a difference at all?" And she cut him off with a smirk. It was far too easy. "Humans are just fools right? They'll be stupid enough to believe anything you say, Ginti. Just have fun with it."

He quieted before snarling on the phone. "Useless." The click was definite. He was hardly happy about it, but Quin knew, at least for now, Ginti would go along with it. For now.

\--

Decim would call later in the week, after Ginti's daily calls became another chore that added onto the duties that came with work. And later in the week, her shoulders sagged just a bit more, and the sighs came out more as frustrated huffs. She was ready to lambast Ginti for calling twice in one day, when she thought the matter had already been settled, but the silence on the other end gave Quin pause.

Then, a quiet, "Thank you."

She could hear the smile in it, and just that small greeting was enough to soften her. She couldn't hide the smile through the rest of the work day.

\--

"There's a point being made with this."

Quin tried her best not to hang up the phone right then. Ginti's voice was starting to become a grating reminder about how nothing was easy, and why, goddamnit, couldn't they just choose someone less grumbly for the second arbiter? She seethed, "I'm starting to need a drink every time I hear the phone ring."

"I think you do anyway."

It wasn't for him to point out. He shouldn't-- It wasn't for him to know about, but Quin was never good at hiding that sort of thing. Her excitement back when they first met may have been enough, but it was that little bitter, niggling principle behind it. 

"That's not why I'm calling today." He sighed, and while the frustration was far from gone, there was something else. "You two... and I know Nona has something to do with this for it to be going on so long... you might have a point."

"Wait, are you saying--"

"No! Humans are still idiots, of course." Oh he really was a stubborn one. "... But. I don't know. It's been different."

That was the closest she thought she was going to get with him, honestly. The silence seemed to say enough, and Quin was ready to hang up. Just before she could though, he spoke again.

"It's busy up there, isn't it?" The insight surprised her. "They don't say anything, but we're not stupid. The average per day has been going up."

She smiled weakly, even when she knew he couldn't see it. "... We're all a little hard up."

"I better not waste more time then."

She didn't get any more calls after that. Something told Quin that was a good sign.

\--

The smile on Nona's face was contagious. Excitement was a rare draw from her friend, but when it was there, it shone so brilliantly that it was hard not to be so awestruck by it. She hadn't seen it so clearly since the girl left, and now, it was toward her and what she did. After so long spent worrying her so much, it was a welcome treat.

An ornate small bottle was cradled in her hands, teasingly filled to the brim with a golden liquid. She knew right away what it was for, and that was perhaps the best present to ever receive upon walking up to Nona's doorstep. 

"They just returned with it," she said before offering her usual seat with a wave of the hand.

"And the kiss?"

And all at once, the enthusiasm was washed from her. Nona unscrewed the cap with a taut frown, temptingly tilting the lid ever slowly downward. "Or I could just dump it on the lawn."

Quin grinned. "You already spent the money. Why waste it?"

"Fair enough." She brought it upright and passed it along to her as Quin slipped by, fingers slightly brushing. Though Quin could've imagined it easily, she thought she saw her smile just a little wider. "It's all yours. Hard liquor isn't really my thing..."

She slumped in the chair next to her with a pout. "Why didn't you get something we both liked?"

"Not much of a reward then, isn't it? You don't mind drinking alone, and I have wine if I want it."

"It seems worse alone." And it did. When she got drunk like that, she couldn't even really call it for the fun of being drunk. From far away, someone could easily suggest that it was just the two of them spending time together, but alone? Well. It was just drinking. The taste never was bad, but the fun of it twisted into a cynicism and things that Quin tried to not think about.

"It's why you should get a hobby."

She huffed in response before tipping the bottle to her lips. The bitter burn that slithered down her throat was a welcomed treat, and the huff eased into a long sigh of pleasure. In a little while, with a little more drinking, she would feel it start numbing her toes and her eyes would grow heavy, and then, she would know that sleeping at her friend's home was just as much of a hobby as anything else. "Yeah, and when am I going to have time for that?" she still tried to argue it. At least a little. "This. This is my hobby. It's a good one."

Nona pressed her hand against her cheek, and the look she gave. It seemed familiar, but Quin couldn't spot where. "... Are you happy?"

"Um. ... I guess?" She tipped back another gulp because suddenly she needed to be a lot more drunk for this conversation. Like maybe passed out. "This isn't really a precise science for humans either. Are you happy?"

Nona shrugged.

"Then what's the point?"

"Because I believe you." She bit the inside of her cheek. "... You didn't see Decim then. Sorrow's a powerful and destructive force, Quin."

"And I'm not sobbing on the gr--" The pause was noticed by both of them, and Quin paled. That long? Was she suggesting she'd just been feeling that one emotion for five years? That. That wasn't right. But she saw it, that concern and fear. Maybe she hadn't really stopped feeling that. "I... I don't think that's how emotions work."

"Anyway, we're celebrating today. Well done, Quin. More reincarnations from both of them, especially surprising with Ginti. I'd call that a victory."

The silence was tense, but eventually, Quin knew it would settle into something calmer, even if that was a conversation that would never disappear on its own.

\--

This was an incredibly, incredibly stupid idea. Though Quin knew that if the invitation had been placed in her hands, then they were definitely already caught. Flower-head never liked playing with her, even if it was just one game. She never questioned it. Billiards wasn't really her sort of game, and the creepy, slender, looming figure of Flower-head had been too much of a distraction to make the game even remotely enjoyable. 

Focused too much on one thing. Hmph. He hardly had the right with the way he seemed to fixate on Nona. True, that was a little reasonable now that they were all exposed with that little scheme. And now this. She... She really wanted to turn around.

But the elevator dinged, and the darkness of the corridor beckoned her into a silence that could almost be called serene, if it weren't for the consequences that awaited her. She never really liked facing those things. Easier to brush things off and get back to work-- not enough time for it for anyone. But she took her first step, and then her second, slowly creeping inside the game room. 

His face stretched for that ear-splitting smile, one that crawled up her spine and reminded her that she had plenty of reasons to be nervous. "It's been a while since we've played, hasn't it?"

"Well. You're a sore winner."

He chuckled, eyeing the pool stick he carried. "And you a sore loser."

The tendrils of his beard shot out, but Quin had been ready for it, jumping back and ducking behind the pool table. It would buy her a moment, but oh, it'd been a while. Just leaning on that back foot had taken longer than it should have. A bad time to start showing signs of disuse and all that. 

"Quin. I'm most disappointed in you," he jeered, but she didn't hear movement. No. Better to wait. "I would've thought seeing Decim so would deter you, but..."

Something was slithering against the wood-work, close behind her. She tried to roll out of there, quick and fluid like it used to be, but it became all too apparent that it had been much too long, and mid-roll, the tendril snagged her ankle.

"Perhaps my mistake came in letting Nona keep you."

With a hard wrench, she was dragged across the cold floor and another yank, slammed against the pool table, the strange material groaning against her weight. A flick of the wrist and the pool stick pressed against the side of her neck, the slightest bit of pressure ever so slowly coming down against her skin. Relax. Practiced, deep breaths-- slow movement of her chest. She didn't want him to mess with her head. She'd seen it plenty of times before over the many, many decades, and the way they squirmed underneath? Ugh.

She did this for her. Nona. She was going to kill her for being so stupid.

“It may have been your idea, or I know Nona-chan can convince you of anything.”

“You too for letting her go like that.”

He chuckled and twisting his wrist, he pressed harder against the pool stick in just the right way, and the air was cut off. She clawed against the wood and his arm, coughing at the fire in her lungs. Lungs? Did they have lungs? Now wasn't the time. 

“Though I didn't know better than, hm? I truly look after you two. So when she ask-- begged for your transfer, how could I say no? She's hard to deny. But you...” He eased on the hold for a moment, the frown almost comical if she was in any other position or situation. “You shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, you know. You would've been just as miserable anywhere else.”

She chuckled dryly. “Something tells me you don't know the exact science of that.”

Another twist of the stick, earning a choke. “What am I going to do with you two?” He twirled the stick idly for a moment, and she wondered, if that movement would be more impressive if it was with the old furnished wood they used for their games. “Removing you wouldn't resolve Nona-chan's curiosity, but you two are causing quite a lot of trouble for me.” She would like to think nothing, maybe hope for it a little too much too. It was always easier to keep her head down and pretended that things never happened, but how long did it take as an arbiter to feel too much? Centuries? Maybe she would have a few decades before it--

She remembered Nona's eased smile, light flush gracing her white cheeks after a few glasses of wine. How even after admitting that she was becoming a little more human every day, how it all came down a desire for something more, something more for her, that the silence was still so very comfortable, and if she reached just a little farther, a little closer, she could almost call it happy through the haze of numbness and nothing but hard plastic and things humans shied away from that was every day for them.

Quin wouldn't last nearly as long as she did then. She wasn't even sure she would last a week now, not without something snapping-- like before, and that was terrifying. Maybe.... Maybe something in Occulus had been right, but the small tastes were too much now.

The way Occulus looked at her-- she wouldn't be surprised if he knew what was happening, more than anyone should. He sighed and tapped the point of the pool stick about an inch from her cheek. She heard something crack, not unlike an egg against a hot pan, but other than that, the silence was deafening.

“Well, you're free to go.”

“O... Oh.” She sat up, just a tad freaked out about it. That was far too easy. Sure, there was a little choking involved, but she had seen worse before. Not directly, but... Still, she was sorta thankful for it, even if Quin knew there had to be some kinda catch. She gave a small passive wave before turning on her heel to leave, frown heavy on her.

“Oh. Quin-chan?”

She turned her head.  
“Give Nona-chan a hello for me.”

A silly request, made even sillier by the time she walked through the short dark hallway back to the elevator. Before she could even make a motion for anything, the elevator doors dinged and creaked open. Pink eyes stared back, wide and startled. However, it wasn't for what she expected.

“You got an invitation too?” Quin asked, heaving a breathless laugh. Maybe she should warn her, but seeing her by itself was probably enough to give pause. Or alarm.

“What...” Make that definitely alarm. Before either of them had the chance to be coherent, Nona had tightly squeezed on her arm and began to drag her back down the dark hallway, her stomps heavy enough to echo in the large corridor. She'd never seen the fire so quickly enclose her or at all. If she didn't know better, she'd almost say Nona was ready for murder. At least something close to it.

Occulus was still perched on the pool board by the time they returned to the room, and the smile he gave them was absolutely devious.

“What did you do?!”

And all at once, the cool demeanor dissolved with a melodramatic sigh and throwing his hands in the air. “I was hoping you two would miss each other. Nona-chan please forgive me~”

“What did you do?!” This time she shoved Quin forward, all but snarling her words as she did so.

“I left you something to think about now, didn't I?” He clapped his hands and stood. “But while you're here, how bout a round? I'm sure we have plenty to discuss now.”

She didn't respond, only yanking back Quin to the hallway with a despairing huff. Well, that was weird. Not too, but there was definitely something sort of off about it-- almost being used like some sort of prize maybe? She wasn't sure she appreciated it, not when the color drained from Nona's face as soon as we were away from Occulus' prying eyes. Her grip shook too, just enough to tug a little too hard on the sleeve every once and a while. She weakly called her once, but Nona did nothing to acknowledge until Clavis was looking at them too, and for a man that never changed his expression ever, his mouth slacked.

“That's possible...?”

Nona sighed. “Apparently.”

“Am I dying?” Quin asked, hoping to break the atmosphere with a small off-color joke. Strangely, it didn't work. Instead, Nona got that look again, one she'd seen so many times before where it made Quin a little queasy and restless.

Nona reached out to her, delicate and careful-- a certain fragility she had never seen from her, then cradled her left cheek. She swallowed thickly before brushing her thumb and she felt something peel back. Nona ripped the piece off, and she shook so much as she pulled away and showed what was in her hand.

It was just the tiniest sliver of her skin, chipped away like paint.

She looked back at Nona and saw the raw, human fear in her eyes, the way her chest heaved and shuddered with each breath. Quin almost could laugh. That ugliness, that rawness. She thought it would never go away, and to see it so openly on her friend was a far greater kindness than she had ever expected from her. It was a peek of something that could perhaps be rewarded later in the future.

With the straightening of her posture, it was gone. “We're... We're done. You're done.” She briskly stepped into the elevator with likely the full expectation that Quin would follow.

–

She had rubbed her hands in the broken glass. It wasn't unlike possession maybe, one of those horror stories she read sometimes late at night. The shards dug deeply inside, and she felt her blood boil, heart pumping, but-- nothing! It wasn't so much pain, but something else. Certainly sharp, but like fingernails grazing against her back. A scream had been trying to claw its way to her throat. For sense! For something that hadn't been the simple mindlessness.

“Quin?”

Nona had been staring at her, a bewildered gaze. And suddenly, her voice died, and a surge of what she would realize later of a feeling-- sorrow, anguish, frustration. Thoughts that were her own that caused a turmoil that changed her. She had wanted to share it all then, the realization that they might as well have been human in that moment, with how close and vulnerable she felt to it, but instead she uncurled her hands, palms up, and showed the field of glass that had made itself home to her skin.

Nona had always been a very smart woman, and though she had never asked, Quin thought she had connected everything before the thought could even be vocalized. Just that her face fell sullen, and she came around the corner of the bar table. The hands that laid against her shoulders barely registered. “Let's sit down. Please.”

She hadn't said anything for the most part. Nona was near motherly as she guided her to the other side of the bar, directing her to a stool, and waited, as patient as ever for her to say something, anything. Even as it had felt inevitable, it still took everything and it still took so long.

She remembered wanting to curl up under one of the sofas and to be quietly left there for eternity, unremembered and unimportant. She hadn't wanted to see another human being, and truly, the months that followed had only been bearable because of Nona's constant visits. But most of all, she had wanted to cry, to feel the sensation of tears, the release that seemed to come with it when it came to humans. Somewhere buried in them, there had to have been some capability, but it seemed so impossible to reach, no matter how empty she really felt.

Clavis had been shushed away at some point with much reluctance on his part. It had been that same delicacy in which she carefully removed each piece of glass, discarded in a pile between their hands.

“You shouldn't do that,” she chastised quietly, and there was something about how her skin seemed so radiant underneath the low lights. “Those marks might stay longer than you think.”

Maybe she had felt it as early as then. She had wanted to tell her that it was fine. That she would be back and ready for work by tomorrow, and they would simply forget about it later, as another memory replaced by decades of work. It had all been a lie, but she would've tolerated more if it meant that it wouldn't hurt Nona like that. Even though she would hurt it later. They both would get a little bitter, a little too tired, and then Quin would say too much.

“And you spent a lot of time getting those things. Why...”

“I quit.”

Nona had paused, and she had watched how very quietly and slowly she steeled herself. “Okay.”

“I mean it. I'm done.”

She finished one hand, seemed to avoid asking why she hadn't winced or anything, and had sagged her shoulders. “Okay. I...” Nona trailed off with another sigh, not quite letting go of the finished hand, only squeezing absently. She wasn't sure if it was for her sake or her friend's. “Are you alright?”

“I hate this place.” She could tell it didn't bring any comfort saying it, but the more she sat in that blue light, among jellyfish and chandeliers, and even her liquor collection, the sicker she had felt. She built this place. Made it into what it was. But more than ever, Quin had wanted all of it to go away. 

Nona squeezed tighter, as if to keep her anchored there. “... Do you still want to help?”

She looked back, saw the way Nona seemed to soften under study and had found it far too difficult to say no. 

–

“You can't just cut me out!”

Nona whirled her head around with a hard leer. “I can and I have. You're done.”

The storm started as soon as they left Clavis behind. The well-worn path to Nona's house now seemed like a river of fire for Quin to navigate, and Nona had provided far too many matches and not enough water to control it. “Who the hell are you going to have up there then?!”

“I don't care. Someone else.”

When they reached the lake, she latched onto her sleeve, trying to make sure she was facing her. So they could deal with it there and now. “... You won't find someone as good as me. You know that.”

Nona was calmer than she should've been, and she hated it so much. How quickly Nona could just seem so... so okay! “I don't need someone good,” she never wavered from her gaze, “I...”

“What?!” She wrenched Nona forward. “So what if I die? You're a goddamn hero, Nona. They're gonna make a few sacrifices.”

“Not you!”

And she knew she was looking at the cracks on her cheek, how the hard plastic showed so clearly underneath. A demonstration of how nonhuman they were, and how even still, there was a threat there. They may not be able to die, but they could be disposed. But it didn't bother her. Leaving didn't bother her. She didn't know why, but it was the calmest inward truth she ever felt in her long, long life.

Nona ripped her arm away, settled herself, and then she saw the briefest crack of her mask, and how the fear returned. She wanted to say something there, but just as well she wanted to cherish it too. Just as quickly, it was gone though with a scowl. “I'm going home and calling Castra. We can't keep going with this anyway.”

“I can't believe this is what gets you running away.” No, no don't fight, but she wanted to. Even as she followed her to her steps, even as Nona tried to ignore her with hiked shoulders. “You were willing to put me in one of the worst departments, risk me before for Decim, but now that Flower-head calls you out, now. Now you want to cut me out?!”

She stood at the porch before sighing, and stepping back down the steps. There was something different about the way she looked at her this time, quiet, contemplative and forlorn. 

“I want...” Maybe it wasn't so much that she wasn't afraid of being gone, but why would Nona even come by if she wasn't involved? “... I could lose you in all this too you know.” Oh. Oh this hurt. She didn't like looking at this side of her, the sort that of thoughts that had her digging her hands in glass, and thinking that maybe she was really alone in all of this-- thinking and feeling all too, too much. “This could happen to you too, and then who the hell am I going to drink with, or--”

And then Nona kissed her. It was something hot, fast, with her grabbing so tightly against her lab coat, and they were crashing against each other, and the briefest swipe of her tongue against her lips, deepening and sweet and bitter. And all at once she realized how much love could hurt too, and how she was so, so okay with that now. Her hands wrapped around her middle, kept her close, so that even as she pulled away, she moved in for more. Always more.

But Nona was still pulling away, and there was a quiet smile, though small. They couldn't say anything to each other, not right away, just the steadying of breaths between them.

“I didn't think—” Quin spoke first, trying to get her thoughts together.

“I don't know.” Nona sighed and fussed with her lab coat collar. “... Maybe we both need better hobbies.”

“This is a nice suggestion.”

She pushed against her, and laughed. Maybe it had been hanging over her head too much. Maybe it was the spur of the moment. “If it means less than...” she waved to the cheek, just a brief dip in the lightness, “that, then I might be open to more.”

It wasn't an answer, but Quin would take it.


End file.
